


Home is Such a Lonely Place Without You

by Anonymous



Category: Political RPF - US 21st c., PragerUniversity RPF
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Original Nonbinary Character - Freeform, Other, Satire, Transphobia, Unrequited Love, catboy!donny, conservative council, crack? is that what you smoke? you smoke crack?, dogboy!mikey, the mistress x the missus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28475049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Once they reached the Oval Office, they were greeted by two armed guards in MAGA hats and custom MAGA-themed AK-47s.They opened the doors for them, and Prager went off to stand by Mike Pence.Ben bowed his head. The end had begun."
Relationships: Abigail Shapiro/Mor Shapiro, Ben Shapiro/Facts, Ben Shapiro/Original Character, Melania Trump/Stormy Daniels, Mike Pence/Donald Trump
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Anonymous





	Home is Such a Lonely Place Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this with friend for New Years. Sure was a way to kick off 2021 with a blast. TW for mention of guns. Work title is from a blink-182 song. Chapter title is from a NOFX song.

_Ben stood before the CC-- short for Conservative Council-- his hands clasped in front of him as he nervously messed with the cuffs of his suit jacket. Yep, that was him. You're probably wondering how he got himself in that situation..._  


****

*******

  


Donald had told him to come to the White House immediately, and put on something pretty.  
  
Ben had thrown on his special blue suit -- the one that gave out strong ass-kissy vibes. He knew it was one of Donald’s favorites; the man had called him a “spunky little shit,” the last time he wore it. Hopefully, the attire was enough to bail him out of whatever fuckfest he’d talked himself into this time.  
  
As he approached the White House, Ben puffed out his chest in an attempt to emanate his BDE into the world. His sister, Abigail, had once informed him his posture was enough to make grown men swoon. Facts had agreed.  
  
“Ben! So glad to see you again!” Dennis Prager called from the building’s front steps, “ ‘Ol Mitchy and I were just discussing your engaging new article, _Chocolate Chip and Mint: A Liberal Ice Cream Epidemic?_ I must say, the Snowflakes have gone too far this time. First they try to outlaw our good, American burgers, and now they're stealing our ice cream flavors too? It's enough to make a man of faith pray!"  
  
“Well Daddy Den,” Ben chuckled, biting back the urge to say that men of faith always pray, “At least they haven’t stolen Rocky Road.”  
  
Prager clapped a hand on the shorter man’s back, “Walk with me son. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but things with The Council are looking grim. You caused quite a stir last week, what with your heresy on Twitter.”  
  
Ben blinked, a bit confused. He stared at his shoes as they walked. “If I might ask, which Tweet? I always double check my facts, of course, and cherry-pick from conservative sources only. I'm practically foolproof!" Ben would never admit it, but he was a bit worried to say the least. He absolutely despised when Libs on Twitter witch-hunted him, but he hated disappointing The Council even more. Nothing was worse than Daddy Donald’s disappointed pout.  
  
Prager ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. It was beginning to thin. “Let’s discuss this when we get to the Oval Office.” He held the door to the White House for Ben. “For now, we should reflect on how to best grovel and repent. Submission always gets you back on their good side.”  
  
Ben blushed at the implications.  
  
Prager’s brows shot down, “You know I don’t mean in that way. I know that spot of your heart is reserved for Facts.”  
  
Ben nearly shouted at him, but refrained. He didn’t want to be in any more trouble than he already ‘allegedly’ was. “I think you mean my lovely-conservative-wife-who-is-definitely-not-dating-my-sister, Mor.”  
  
“Ah yes,” Prager smiled fondly, “I found her insight on that new hood pop song, _WAP,_ very enlightening. I myself have never seen one.”  
  
Their trek continued in silence. Once they reached the Oval Office, they were greeted by two armed guards in MAGA hats and custom MAGA-themed AK-47s.  
  
The doors swung open, and Prager went off to stand by Mike Pence.  
  
Ben bowed his head. The end had begun.


End file.
